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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123965">Thick Thighs Save Lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites'>mudkipwrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Worship, Comfort, Hand Jobs, Healing, M/M, Marking, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Weight Gain, Xeno, body-positive, thigh-fucking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:26:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebel life has made Kallus soft in more ways than one. (Or, the one in which Garazeb Orrelios says to him: “Alexsandr. You are precious to me. Why would I ever want there to be any less of you in this world?”)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thick Thighs Save Lives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleTchj/gifts">elleTchj</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one is dedicated to anyone else who has struggled with eating disorders or body dysmorphia. From one recovering friend to another: it gets better! You are loved!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b>/// /// /// </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Wet heat clings to Kallus’ body. The tropical heat leaves darkening salt-stains in the armpits of his old, greying Academy tank, particularly where it clings to his neck and back. The former Imperial raises one forearm and wipes at the beads of sweat rolling down his brow. On days like today, when the humidity of Yavin 4 is more like the <em> inside of a star </em>than a jungle, he is reminded of his ruthless combat training with the Empire. </p><p>Back in those days, his life had been hard; and Kallus had become hard along with it. In order to survive the pressure and violence of his world, ISB-029 had sculpted a resilient mind, body and heart: a form that could endure even the most <em> vicious </em> of challenges that had been set before him. But none of that <em> necessary </em> for his life now. As Alexsandr Kallus has come to learn within his new place in the Rebellion: the heart of a rebel is <em> soft.  </em></p><p>And softness has its <em> own </em> benefits. </p><p>Kallus hadn’t anticipated this to be the case. When the Ghost had landed upon Yavin 4, the shift in his perspective had been <em> incredibly </em> difficult. Like all good Imperials, Kallus had been shaped by a culture and environment that equated <em> health </em> to <em> whatever best serves the interests of the Empire </em> . Most often than not, that meant a person who was a productive, efficient, hard-working soldier; and one who consumes limited resources, while simultaneously providing unlimited work hours. And yet, at what was considered to be peak Imperial performance, ISB-029 Agent Kallus had been… <em> ill. </em> He had <em> not </em> slept enough restful hours at night, he had <em> not </em> consumed a sufficient amount of food, and he had <em> not </em>known the experiences of relaxation, or comfort, or contentment. Any of his romantic liaisons were hurried and shameful, and all of his too-brief friendships ended in competition or betrayal.</p><p>So when Kallus had been introduced to the concept of health as it applied <em> beyond </em> the Empire, he had been shocked. <em> Could life really be this easy? </em> he’d wondered while selecting his new pair of comfortable trousers and loose-fitting vest. <em> Can I really just wear my hair long, rest when I’m tired, and even take off vacation days when I need a break?) </em> And it turns out: <em> yes. </em> Gentleness, kindness, <em> softness, </em> is <em> good. </em> Gradually, Alexsandr Kallus came into his own: releasing his guilt for feeling happy, and embracing the pleasure that comes from real joy. These days, Kallus actually <em> loves </em>himself, and his life. Most particularly, he loves savoring food beyond the Empire’s dull, compressed ration bars; playing late-night, drunken sabbac with his new friends; and spending long, lazy mornings in bed with Zeb. </p><p>Because Captain Garazeb Orrelios is nothing short of <em>delighted </em>about this new, softer version of Kallus. According to his mate, it is considered <em>highly </em>desirable within Lasat culture to be accepted by a lover with <em>‘extra</em> <em>meat on their bones.’</em> He had not really believed Zeb at first <em>(after all, the Lasat is tender-hearted and compassionate man, and would do anything to care for him). </em>However, Zeb had gone at lengths to try and explain it to him--all excitement and bright eyes while reciting lore “primal instincts, a warrior’s gravity, and the evident access to nourishing resources”--Kallus had been convinced that his <em>extra </em>is not only <em>acceptable, </em>but, <em>attractive. </em> </p><p>And ‘extra’ he <em>has! </em>Where Kallus had formerly displayed the sharp lines of his chin, he now sports a thick, fluffy, full-jawed beard. Where his arms had been once muscled and toned, his body now incorporates soft folds of buttery, freckled skin. Hidden under the curling hair of his chest are softened pectorals, smooth lines of fat, which pairs with the swell of his belly and curving love-handles. <em>(And, of course, Kallus can never forget the increased plush of his ass. He certainly</em> <em>hears from Zeb about </em><em>that</em><em>.) </em>As it turns out, it was the constant dread of being attacked and killed by his rivals that had kept him so tough and toned for survival. And while some days he <em>does </em>lament being able to sprint a mile in less than five minutes, he knows that he can still, when necessary, <em>run. </em>And that is enough. </p><p>Kallus had especially come to appreciate the benefits of his new, ample softness when he’d begun to notice the increasing interest of one Captain Garazeb Orrelios. </p><p>As someone once trained to pay close attention to the way others interacted with him, it was hard for Kallus <em>not t</em>o notice the amount of weight that the Ghost’s largest crew member had been placing upon him with his eyes since he’d joined the Rebellion. Much to his former chagrin, Kallus had <em>always </em>been attracted to the physicality of non-humanoid aliens; particularly, those with the capacity to <em>overpower</em> him. If <em>anyone</em> fit the bill, <em>Garazeb Orrelios </em>certainly did. The man was all rippling muscles, dangerous claws, and thick, beautiful pelt of striped, lavender fur. It had taken <em>effort </em>for Kallus not to <em>throw</em> himself at the man once they’d become better acquainted; but, after all, he was an honorable man. Kallus needed to be <em>sure </em>of the Lasat’s feelings before taking any initiative. </p><p>Zeb was kind enough to clear it all up for him quickly.</p><p>There was that one, memorable afternoon in which Kallus had been unloading and shelving meiloorun fruit with Sabine Wren. Kallus had been impressed with the strength of the stocky, turquoise-haired woman, and he had been putting in his own, extra effort in lifting the crates. At one point, while extending his arms above his head to shelve the last crate, Kallus had felt his shirt pulling free from his straining belt. With a creeping sensation, the fabric had slipped up the soft, sweating curve of his belly, and exposed his increased plushness to the rest of the world. Never one to back down from a challenge, Kallus had finished the task before dropping his hand to push down the fabric. He’d laughed with Sabine, and would have thought nothing of it--<em> until-- </em> he had turned his head, and he’d caught Zeb open-mouth <em> staring at him. </em> With the crushed, sticky remains of a meiloorun fruit dripping between the crooks of his hand. And a look upon his face that Kallus could only describe as... <em> Thirst.  </em></p><p>He had made it through that moment by brushing quickly past Zeb, eyes downcast and avoiding his gaze. But Kallus had gone directly back to his bunk, opening himself up and taking his pleasure in-hand, gasping at the image of the Lasat’s intense gaze fixed upon his thick belly and thighs. </p><p>Things had progressed rather quickly after that. With renewed courage, Kallus had found opportunities to place himself in the same space as Zeb; and he, in turn, lingered whenever Kallus was around. Just as he had adjusted to life on the Rebel base, Kallus found himself inclined to the natural presence of Garazeb, and drawn ever-closer into their easy partnership. It was not long until they were standing closely next to each other in meetings, their burly arms brushing against one another as they stood side-to-side. Kallus had even become accustomed to flaring his nostrils upon entering a room, searching for the familiar, spicy smell of the Lasat. </p><p>And then there was that one, memorable night in which they had met upon the Temple stairs in unspoken agreement. It had started out with a cautious, tender kiss; it had shifted into an eager, <em> enthusiastic </em> making-out. Kallus had revealed in the new, <em> delicious </em> sensations of Zeb: his four-fingered paws running over his body, the warmth radiating off of his rough tongue and pelt. It had been a cooler night, and Zeb had slipped one of his paws inside of Kallus’ shirt to palm at the heat rolling off his freckled skin. When he had cupped at the folds just above his hips ( <em> Kallus heard these curves referred to as ‘love-handles’), </em> he had gasped out with surprise; and Zeb had practically <em> growled </em> in his pleasure. (“Kal…” he’d panted against his forehead: “I didn’ <em> realize </em> that it was even <em> possible </em> for me to find you any <em> hotter </em>.”) </p><p>Any suspicion that these words were just empty talk had been fucked <em> vigorously </em> into the stairs, making Zeb’s appreciation <em> perfectly </em> clear.  </p><p>These days, they can enjoy one another, and take things slow. Like the other parts of his life as a Rebel, Kallus has made adjustment to his sex life with Zeb in order that they might both be comfortable: pillows and bolsters to help open up, chairs and hand-holds to aid for penetration. Sometimes, Kallus misses the easy way that the Lasat had lifted and thrown him while his body was still lean from the Empire; and, once in a while, he wishes that he could gaze upon their mingled pleasure without the obstruction of his belly or thighs. But Kallus and Zeb are <em> happy. </em> And they are <em> together. </em> By modifying the space around them so that they are both relaxed and comfortable, Kallus has become even more aware of how to care for and attend his lover; and their intimacy has <em> never </em>been better. </p><p>He’s thinking about this as he hums and brushes away the rolling sweat. With this crate, Kallus has <em> finally </em>finished the last of his duties for today. Judging by the angle of the sunset, he will still have time for a drink with Cassian and the others before he has to turn in for the day. Stretching and groaning, Kallus extends his gloved hands and rotates his wrists above his head. The motion relieves tension and stretches his spine, and he feels healthy blood flow and oxygen rush through his veins like a cocktail of good health. </p><p><em> “ </em> Well, <em> hullo </em> , <em> gorgeous!” </em> </p><p>Add a dash of <em> Want </em>to that mix. Alexsandr Kallus turns to see his mate,  Garazeb Orrelios, striding into the hangar. The sun is setting behind him, and it gives the illusion of a golden-orange halo around his tall, pointed ears. “Hey, love.” he greets, blooming with happiness. The Lasat crosses the distance between them, throwing an arm around his broad shoulders. </p><p>“Lookin pretty rough, there, Kal.” Zeb says cheerfully, nuzzling his bearded cheek against Kallus’ face. His muscles flex beneath his purple skin, and the softness of his pelt tickles his human nose. “Yout about done for today?”</p><p>Kallus chuckles and returns the embrace, feeling the softness of his body giving against Zeb’s long, hardened planes. “Just finishing up.” He replies fondly. “And you? Have you accomplished all of your daily responsibilities?” He pulls back just enough gaze upon the face of the other man. Garazeb is <em> beautiful: </em>the regal lines of his chin; the lushness of his beard; the luminance of his eyes; those striking, angular, predator’s features. </p><p>It occurs to Kallus that he is looking at him with that <em> Thirst </em>again. </p><p>“M’<em> about to.” </em> Zeb rumbles.  The dark slits of his pupils have expanded into spheres, and they are focused <em> unblinkingly </em> upon Kallus’ mouth. </p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p>Kallus flicks his tongue out to wet his lips. </p><p>Since that first day with the staring and meiloorun fruit, Kallus has, in fact, <em> fantasized </em> about his mate taking him in this particular hangar. <em> (Yes, it probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, having sex in such public spaces...but he and Zeb were always thorough. And they would take extra care to clean up after themselves, and not to leave a trace that might disturb other people.) </em></p><p>So, if nobody else is <em> around </em>... </p><p>Zeb’s thick eyebrows lift in excitement as Kallus smoothes one hand up his lover’s tensed abdominal muscles. “<em>Garazeb…</em>” He replies, doing his best impression of a scolding Hera. “Are you suggesting that we ought to <em>misbehave? </em>And while so far outside of your <em>quarters</em>?” He lifts his hands to brush through the bristled, purple hair of his partner’s beard. “I’d think that a captain of the Rebel Alliance would have more of a sense of propriety!” </p><p>The Lasat growls in playful disapproval. He drops his chin to close the gap between their faces, exhaling a hot, heavy breath just inches from Kallus’ sensitized lips.</p><p>“Hmm...Captain Kallus, why don’t you ask me that <em> again </em> ? I think that I’d like to hear you say it with that kind of confidence…” he descends to his most deep and alluring baritone, “...while I’m <em> balls deep </em> inside of you <em> .”  </em></p><p>Kallus shudders<em> .  </em> <em> Karabast! Fuck. We’re </em> <em> doing </em> <em> this. </em></p><p>“A-and how would you have me, if you could?” he replies, doing his best not to sound <em> too </em>over-eager and breathless. </p><p>Zeb chuckles. The sound makes him <em> weak </em> .  “I’d have you <em> bent over that crate </em> . That one--right over <em> there.”  </em>He points a clawed finger towards a stack of meilooruns in the corner. It’s a scene not unlike the mildly-compromising situation that he had found Kallus in once before. </p><p>Kallus finds himself stroking his hands upward until his fingers lace around his lover’s neck.<em> “I accept.” </em>He whispers, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive space near the joint of his ear. He gives it attention with hot, sucking nibbles. Zeb groans, and allows him to do this until his grip tightens and his powerful hips and thighs begin to cant. </p><p>“<em> Now!” </em>Zeb growls. </p><p>“As you say, Captain.” he returns cheekily. </p><p>Kallus begins to turn and walk away from his mate, but two hands suddenly grip him about his  waist. Zeb’s claws dig into the soft, ample flesh there, and he <em> groans </em> as the Lasat steps forward and into his space. “Aren’t ya even gonna <em> shut the door </em>?” Garazeb murmurs as he presses his body flush to the back of Kallus. </p><p>With this <em>delicious</em> new contact, Kallus can feel the intense, <em>hard</em> desire of the other man pushing through the fabric of his jumpsuit. </p><p>“Nah.” he shrugs amiably. “It’s a <em> very </em>nice sunset, Zeb. Why should we miss out?” He begins undoing the buckles of his belt. </p><p>This earns Kallus an extra <em> hard </em> thrust mingled into their grinding.</p><p>Garazeb <em> loves </em> it when Kallus is openly confident with his body, and he <em> knows </em> it. Kallus is still getting used to voicing his pleasure <em> (it is yet </em> <em> another </em> <em> benefit of his new life with the Rebellion) </em> , but he doesn’t mind practicing this with his partner. <em> Especially </em> when it so effectively turns the Lasat on. He can feel the way that his partner is becoming increasingly aroused in the moment: the rumbling purr emanating from his throat and chest; the hot, panting breath washing over his shoulder; the tiny sounds of desire that slip out through his lips. </p><p> “Carry me?” Kallus asks, tilting his head to the side to receive a neck-kiss. </p><p>“<em>Anywhere.” </em>Zeb agrees.  He bends his knees to lift Kallus with all of the coiled, brute force that is naturally built into his hips and thighs. For all of Kallus’ additional weight, the Lasat still carries him as easily a ragdoll; and it never fails to send his heart <em>racing</em>. He groans softly in pleasure, and allows his sandy head to tilt back against Garazeb’s broad chest as he is carried across the expanse of duracrete floor. Zeb sets him gently down upon one of the crates in the corner, and places one hand beneath his chin. </p><p>“I’m gonna treat you well. Yeah?” Zeb asks, thumbing Kallus’ plush lower-lip. </p><p>“<em> Yes.” </em>he agrees once again. </p><p>Zeb moans with happiness. He squats, straddling one leg over either side of his lover, so that Kallus is framed with his back to the wall and his face towards the sunset. “Lemme know if somebody comes, or you need me to stop…” He purrs, dropping to his knees. </p><p>“C-can’t think of any reason <em> why </em> that would <em> ever happen.” </em>Kallus groans, hands threading into the hair on top of Garazeb’s head. </p><p>Zeb begins by kneading his hands all along Kallus’ thighs. They are thicker than they have ever been on his body before, and they often rub together while he walks about his various jobs during the day. The cooling air of the evening feels <em> good </em>upon his slightly-chafed skin as Zeb undoes the buttons and tugs his pants down, breathing over the marbled flesh and muscle there. </p><p>“<em> Beautiful, </em> Kal.” Zeb whispers, kissing into the place just above the inside of his knees. “You’re truly <em> radiant </em>these days.” </p><p>Kallus sighs, and scratches his fingernails with slightly more eagerness into Zeb’s hair. “It’s a bit much,” he says, before he can help himself. Kallus closes his eyes, waiting for the gentle rebuke from his lover for the times when he slips up and starts insulting his body. But instead, he hears Zeb’s voice, catching with soft affection: </p><p><em>“Alexsandr. </em>You are <em>precious </em>to me. Why would I ever want there to be any <em>less </em>of you in this world?” </p><p>Kallus finds himself gasping into his hand as Zeb snuffles forward and into his briefs. The soft, breathable fabric moves gently against the rasp of his tongue, and he feels himself growing firmer within <em> seconds.  </em></p><p>“This is <em> you </em> we’re talking about...” his partner breathes. He slides his warm hands down Kallus’ thighs, until both fingertips and teeth are stroking over his growing erection. “...It’s <em> your </em> body. And so: I <em> love </em>it.” </p><p>If Zeb hadn’t chosen that precise moment to take him gently in hand, Kallus would have said that his next sob was purely emotion. </p><p><em> “Ah-!” </em> He gasps, blinking away tears, as the dexterous and <em> powerful </em> hands move and pull at the slickness of pre-come upon his skin. “ <em> Garazeb! </em>I--” </p><p>He is silenced by a kiss pressed to his mouth. </p><p>It begins gently: conveying all the truthfulness, appreciation, and <em> love </em> that his partner holds for him in his words. As it deepens, Kallus’ grasp drifts from the top of Zeb’s head to the fuzzy hair peeking out of the unzipped jumpsuit of his chest. Feeling the racing beat of Zeb’s heart beneath his trembling hands, Kallus leans into the warmth and care all around him: <em> safe. protected. home. </em> And then--Garazeb, keeping in tempo with every one of his strokes in between Kallus’ legs--begins to press his barbed tongue into Kallus’ mouth to in order to more deeply fuck him.  </p><p>Kallus <em> groans </em> and opens to the gesture. With a shaking breath, he allows Zeb to enter him and swirl his thick tongue over and around his sensitive mouth, driving his heady taste into him deeper. As his lover begins to increase the pace, Kallus’ shoulders begin to bow and his thighs clench around his forearm in need. </p><p>When they separate for a moment--a wet string of saliva pulling taut and snapping between them--Kallus hears himself <em> beg. </em> “ <em> Zeb!” </em> He pants, rolling his head to the side. “ <em> Please, </em>Zeb!” He tugs at the collar of his sweaty, grey tank.</p><p>The Lasat knows what he wants: he bows his head to Kallus’ neck, brushing his lips against the salty, flushed skin. As he nips against the freckled softness, Kallus shudders and <em> groans </em> , and Zeb bites deep and <em> hard </em>into his flesh. </p><p>Kallus nearly comes right then and there as he feels the sweet burn of Zeb marking him. The first time that they’d ever tried this, he actually <em> had: </em> the significance of the Lasat mating ritual had not been lost upon him, and he’d felt <em> possessed </em> in the most <em> glorious </em> way. Each time afterward, Zeb has sealed and re-sealed him with the imprint of his fangs upon his request, leaving Kallus with a dark and leaking bruise which he could privately admire for <em> days </em> afterward.</p><p><em> “AAH!” </em> He is in tears of pleasure once again as Zeb licks at blood welling up on his shining skin. “ <em> Soon!”  </em> Kallus alerts him, choking on the word as it escapes him. “Zeb, <em> soon. </em> I’m <em> so close. </em>I’m going to--” </p><p>The Lasat drops his hand from his heavy cock. Kallus is too busy seeing stars to understand the abrupt change in what is happening, but he can figure out from the rustle of fabric and wine of a zip. Zeb’s hands come to rest on his shoulders, breath panting heavily over him. </p><p>“Turn <em> around, </em> Alexsandr. <em> ” </em>He breathes. </p><p>Shaking, Kallus obeys. </p><p>As promised, Zeb bends him over the edge of the crate. It is the most <em> wonderful </em> sensation: the warm, fading sunlight washing over his face; the hot, building <em> wetness </em> of Zeb’s tongue in between his trembling thighs. </p><p>His <em> thighs!  </em></p><p>Because--while the Lasat is keeping him anchored against the sealed crate of fruit--he is not working his mouth towards the cleft of his anus, as usual; he is devoting his <em> full </em> attention to the soft area in between Kallus’ legs, as if opening him in preparation. Kallus opens his mouth to ask questions; but the sound of Zeb’s grunting pleasure as he slicks the head of his own, massive cock is enough to give him the idea of what’s going to happen next. </p><p>“This <em> okay?” </em>Garazeb asks, crouching behind Kallus so that the plump head of his cock is pulsing into the back of his thighs. </p><p>Kallus whimpers.“Sure!” He gasps, hands giving out where they grasp the lip of the crate. <em>Ashla. Karabast. Force. </em>“I mean, <em>yes!</em> <em>Great!” </em></p><p><em> This </em>is what Zeb has been waiting for: without preamble, the thrusts through Kallus’ clenched thighs until he is sheathed all the way to his root. </p><p>“<em> Ashla!” </em>Kallus gasps. </p><p>He can <em> feel </em> the sharp tug of Zeb’s expanding, fleshy penile spines as they grip at the tender skin of his thigh. He can <em> see </em> the deep-purple head peeking out from in between his legs, nudging into the space underneath his tight scrotum. He can <em> hear </em>the wetness of it as the girth of him squelches backwards and forth. </p><p>It is <em> perfection.  </em></p><p>“<em> Karabast, </em> Zeb!” </p><p>His Lasat lover growls. Clawed hands bite into the flesh of his ass. “Oh, <em> YES!” </em>  Zeb exclaims, pulling back and driving back into Kallus again.Zeb begins thrusting into him at a new, punishing pace, <em> pounding </em> against Kallus with the kind of merciless force that would have not have been <em> possible </em> ( <em> or, at least, not nearly safe) </em> if he’d been sheathed inside the fragile flesh of his sphincter. “ <em> KARABAST! YES!!!”  </em></p><p>It is an <em> exquisite </em> moment. Kallus does not know if his life has <em> ever </em> been this good, this <em> soft. </em> The love of his life is railing into him; and he can take every <em> ounce </em> of his pleasure, without even the slightest of fears or complaints. The friction of it is <em> delightfully </em> stimulating: he can feel every <em> twitch </em> of fluid within Zeb’s rushing veins, every <em> trickle </em> of pre-cum leaking from his heart-shaped head, every <em> jolt </em> of pain from the fleshy spikes of his thickening barbs.</p><p>Kallus is <em> always </em> aroused by the pleasure that he stimulates for his partner; but now, in this moment, he is <em> enraptured.  </em></p><p>He cannot remember knowing a moment better than this: the jostle and <em> punch </em>of Garazeb’s erection between the soft, tender flesh of his thighs; the tight hands that bite into his ass; the stinging, wet shoulder; the hot, heavy breath panting into his skin.</p><p>“<em> Come for me.” </em>Zeb purrs--</p><p>--and he <em> does.  </em> With more enthusiasm than Kallus had previously thought possible, he bucks backwards into the dripping Lasat. All at once, he is releasing his climax: a burst of white-hot heat, quaking limbs, and a lost, <em> melting </em>sensation upon the support of the crate. </p><p>Zeb is coming, too. He follows Kallus shortly after, wrapping his arms around his thick waist. When the piercing barb shoots out with his <em> (excessive) </em> release, it scrapes against the rubbed-raw flesh of Kallus’ legs. He cries out in a mingled pleasure and pain.</p><p>“<em> Alexsandr.” </em> he pants, running his hands through his hair reverently. “My love, my <em> mate. </em> Are you <em> alright </em>?” He nuzzles into the back of his scalp questioningly. </p><p>When he gives a light, breathless laugh in response, the Lasat looks back at him quizzically. </p><p>Alexsander Kallus turns his face towards Garazeb, placing both hands on either side of his head. “I’m <em> perfect, </em> love.” He whispers, tenderly kissing the soft bridge between his nose and eyes. “It’s just that...I don’t think that I’ll <em> ever </em>be able to look at meiloorun fruit quite the same way again…” </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>/// /// /// </b>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you have the time. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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